


Binds and Brands

by cpwiser10



Category: Fake AH crew - Fandom, Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, B), Drama, Fake AH Crew, Fake AH Crew AU, Hybrid AU, Major character death - Freeform, Other, rt hybrid AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-10
Updated: 2016-05-21
Packaged: 2018-03-07 00:05:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 11
Words: 11,667
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3153353
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cpwiser10/pseuds/cpwiser10
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.</p><p>However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Beginning

The adrenaline pounding throughout their veins riled them to extremes, the soft pounding of a healthy heart thumping in their caged chests.

A strange, guttural growl rings out as Michael narrowly dodges a stray bullet, diving behind an upturned vehicle, where his co-worker, Geoff, peaks up from behind it.

"Get over here, dickwad! The police are getting tougher... we should go at this more co-hearse-like." He states as Michael settles beside him.

His eyes flicker over the burning rubble, and he runs for it, stuttering for a moment as he gets out of the way, spittle forming at his lips.

Michael sits there. Simply sits and waits. Should he go? Will it kill him? It seems pretty bad over there anyways, but Geoff seems to be handling it well, he's got the burning intensity of a thousand billygoats, anyways-

And suddenly his heart, after just slowing down, thumps again. Hard. It makes his chest hurt, and feels like he's about to sputter up blood. A hard, cold piece of metal rests against his auburn locks, a grizzly, unkempt man at the other end.

"Wonder how you look with a bullet in your brain," The man curred, cocking the gun.

Just as Michael accepted inevitable fate and shut his eyes tightly, a spray washed over him the the male's body fell limp before him. He beamed and caught eye of their very own Ryan Haywood, sporting a new car, commonly present skull mask hanging loosely in his fingers, a chiseled grin on his face.

"We got the money, let's scram!"

The sounds of a few final shots and then silence as the entirety of the 6 booked it to the car

They caught each others looks and smiled. Michael had no idea where the other four had managed to get themselves, but now they were all here in complete safety within the automobile, Ryan put the car into ignition, tucking away his small pistol within his pocket.

 

"Michael, dude, you gotta be more careful with yourself." Geoff stated, who sat in the front beside Ryan.

 

The curly haired man only made a small nod in understanding, gathering the look of the car.

Uhm... Van, actually. Mini van. It had a pale tan inside, the front seats were synthetic fur. It's really no surprise this is the one Ryan grabbed to drive them out, they're so commonly used and it's one of the few that can actually hold everyone.

Without warning, a high-pitched yelp kicked Michael out of his daze.

"Dude, what the fuck?" He asked, putting pressure on the last word, not denying the fact that it startled him and made his hair stand on end.

"Sorry, it's just Jack sat on my... uhm... things." Gavin stated from behind, seeing as he was in the very back seat.

Jack turned to Gavin and gave him a sympathetic look, moving slightly so the vaugley damaged and crumpled feathers could be pulled out from under him.

"Lovely, so now I won't be able to fly until I iron them," He whined sarcastically.

"It's not like you fly much anyways." Ryan butted it, but kept his eyes on the road.

"Mhm... You gotta point, but, ugh, can I take them out of the binding? They hurt."

Gavin's binding was more of two lumps on his backside. There was no way it was possible to completely remove the look of the wings, they were huge after all. To co-inside this, he wears a large cape during heists, so no one can tell what he's hiding.

"Gavin I swear to god if you take your wings out of those I'm throwing you out the car." Geoff said from the passengers side.

By that time, he already had one wing out of the binding, and everyone in the car got a faceful of brown down.

"GOD FUCKING DAMMIT!"


	2. Nicks and Bruises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

Finally pulling into the garage, Ryan sighs in relief that he can finally get out of the mirage of plume currently overtaking the vehicle.

Everyone manages themselves out of the car and hurriedly makes their way into the apartment, but not without the large bags of coin they had piled in the back.

Geoff slings the back over his back and makes his way inside, as do the rest of the crew.

Although, it appears the little bunny is having a few difficulties.

"You alright there, Ray?" Ryan asks just as he's about the open the door and get inside.

"Money's heavy but nothing I can't do, but I'm more concerned about those police sirens." He says, deadpan.

The approaching, blaring sirens grew louder and louder, until it seemed like they were all they could hear, everyone bustled inside without hesitation, knowing it was dead-set on them.

Geoff shoved all his weight to the door the second it shut, and attained a panicked look.

"Just get Gavin -who apparently couldn't hold himself- some quick coverage and the guns. Pistols should do, and, Ray?" The Ram hybrid said, before his eyes fell on the smaller male.

"Mhm?" Ray mumbled.

"No explosives."

"Gotcha."

And with that final word everyone set out to get the required necessities.

Geoff could hear the quickly approaching car park right outside the door, and he sweared he could feel their breath down his neck, needless to say, he grew goosebumps.

Cold beads of sweat rolled down his forehead before they were threw off with a hard pound to the back of his head.

"OPEN UP. POLICE!"

A strangled "Guys, hurry up!" was all Geoff managed to choke out before the door was slammed in and he had to move out of the way.

Luckily, by that time, Jack was around the corner opening fire.

1 police officer down... 2...

Then something whizzed by and all Geoff could feel was a severe burning pain in his arm, but the only sound he could make when it hit was a strangled groan.

Ryan could be faintly be seen from out of the corner of his eye as the Long-horn shot down the last few of the cops,before hurriedly shutting the door.

Walking towards the other two, one huddled into the corner and the other giving him nothing but concerned looks.

"Geoff, you alright? What happened?"

Geoff moved his hand slightly and a dribble of red blood fell down his arm as he hissed in pain.

"I think one of the police got my arm. Do you have any gouges, antiseptic even?" he asked weakly. He was beginning to get dizzy.

"Yeah, go lie down I'll be right back. Jack?"

The lion hybrid nodded in understandably, and lead the weakly man to the nearby couch, smiling slightly.

"Don't worry, Ryan's gonna patch you up."

Ryan was digging around in the medicine cabinet, gouges bare. There's no way band-aids would cover up something like that.

"Ryan?"

Needless to say, he practically jumped out of his skin at the start.

"Thanks for that." He groaned sarcastically

"Sorry. Is Geoff okay? He got it pretty bad." Gavin asked, a large sheet on his back.

"He should be, we got to it fairly quickly. Mind taking this out to him?" He asked, handing the Bird a small ice pack.

"Make sure he puts it on the wound, alright?"

Gavin nodded hurriedly, obeying and taking out immediately.

He snickered at the enthusiasm the little birdy still had in him, and he finally manged to retrieve the gouges, sighing.

He finally jaunted his way out of the bathroom, hands filled with hydrogen peroxide and the bandages. The group gathered around Geoff was what met his sight.

" ' He alright?" Ryan asked, setting down the supplies on a nearby table.

Ray perked up, "Better then before, but still bleeding pretty bad."

He mumbled an agreeance, and signaled Gavin to move away with the ice pack. He then knelt beside Geoff, taking his injured arm into his hand, studying it.

Then, he poured a small amount of the liquid into a cloth and pressed it into the wound, as the Ram let out a hiss of pain.

Ignoring that, he tore the sleeve off and threw it lamely to the side. "Someone burn that. Don't want any more police, do we?" he said, not expecting an answer.

He quickly unwrapped a few dressings, and began to wrap it around his arm, covering the wound in thick cloth.

Just as Geoff was abut to get up again, Ryan grabbed his head and pressed it down the pillow again.

"Sleep. You need to get that blood back."

And without another word, Ryan left, probably to go tinker with new weapons in his room again.

 

Who knew he could be so caring?


	3. Why Should I Forgive?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

A new day, and the smell of gasoline filled the air, waking everybody out of a half-restful sleep. To say they were tired was an understatement, but after years of preforming this feat everyday was nothing abnormal.

Backs cracked like it popped pills of caffeine in their system, and everyone piled in the room, gathering round the table and taking seats in the couch, besides Geoff, who stood before them, curling his hands into eachother and gaining a devilish look on his face.

"Alright, assholes, suit up. I've got something planned."

Jack raised a single finger to interrupt, but was quickly shushed by the Ram.

"Don't worry, it'll be fun."

And with that last sentence everyone piled away into their rooms, gathering their necessities.

The cat streamlined his way straight to his room, throwing open the dresser and peering in it.

Michael clambered through his dressers, searching for his prize, tail flicking fruitlessly behind him.

After he pulled out an old T-shirt and threw it aside, only then did he uncover what he searched for: A switchblade, his favorite knife. He gave a sloppy grin and tucked it away in his pocket.

He turned and grabbed his pistol that laid on safety right beside his bed, and turned to face the door, only to meet face-to-face with Ray.

"Hey," Was the only blunt thing he said before reaching beside Michael and grabbing his cologne on his side table.

"What gives?" Michael asked, cocking a brow, giving an unamused look. Well now he knew why he always had to buy more so early.

"Homemade mace. Atleast their eyes smell like - what is it- sea mist? Yeah, that, for a couple days." he said as he plunged the small bottle in his pocket.

Michael could only sigh and roll his eyes at this point.

"Alright, just... don't use mine next time, alright?"

Ray nodded, and darted out of the room, leaving the Cat to himself.

By the time everyone had gathered back into the living room, everyone looked slightly different. Ryan had a mysterious Rucksack slung over his shoulder, Jack had a vest on, Gavin had a backpack filled to the brim with unrecognizable things, Geoff, questionable lumps in a large leather jacket, Ray, fairly uneven pockets, and Michael constantly shuffled with his. He obviously hid something deep within them.

Who knew he could fit so much?

"Alright, let's go. Ryan, start up the car."

Ryan nodded, heading towards it without a minute's hesitation, the the rest of the crew followed suite like ducks following their mother, gathering in the car as Ryan began to rev the engine.

As they pulled out, Geoff turned and said something that could cause hearts to get caught in throats.

"Hope you brought bullet-proof vests."

They pulled into a vacant parking lot, and could practically hear the tumble weeds scowering the ground, scratching at the dirt. People were no where around for, dare it be said, miles. The only vaugley human noise was the occasional police siren.

It was perfect in the Ram's eyes, it was like they glinted in gratitude.

"Get to work," He said flatly, opening up his Jacket, which was no surprise in the hot air, and pulling out a hand grenade, "I don't want a standing building when we're done."

Micheal shuffled in his place.

"I don't really have anything for this." He mumbled. The elder man only bit his lip in thought.

"You can hav'a couple of mine. I got quite a few." He stated, handing the one he had just pulled out to Micheal.

Michael beamed as he curled his fingers around the small metal ball in his hand. It felt lovely having one of these in his possession again. Nearly nostalgic.

Ryan, on the other hand, came completely prepared. He set his rucksack on the ground and pulled a moderately sized rocket launcher from it. He held it and waited for Geoff to give a nod of approval, once he did, Ryan pulled a pair of headphones out of the sack and pulled them over his ears, waiting for the rest of the group to start.

By this point, it seemed like Michael was the only one without any explosives of his own, but there was no-one to blame, he was never informed.

"Well, go on," The Ram coaxed, and that's when all hell broke loose.

Ryan fired first, blowing a huge hole is some somewhat-nearby ground, and that set everyone off, giggling as they threw lit strings and destroyed enough ground to build a luxury pool.

Ray was rapid-firing, pulling pins and spitting off the balls at lightning speed.

Just as Gavin was pulling another pin from a grenade, he picked something up, the small hum of police sirens.

"Uh, Geoff?" he asked, getting slightly worried.

"Yeah, Gav?" the Ram responded.

"Police," was the once word he muttered before they could be seen pulling off the road in the distance, the bare landscape that surrounded them firing dust from behind them in a frenzy.

Geoff cracked a dead, relentless grin.

"Just what I wanted."

He stood there, unmoving. Like it was a death wish.

When the cops got out of the white, still blaring call, he reached into the jacket, pulling a small gun out of it.

The police were about to piss themselves. They were terrified, honestly. They had heard of these people from other police stations, they killed masses of men. Destruction was nothing unheard of them, not to name the fact that they held live explosives in their hands.

Ryan carefully aimed the Rocket launcher at their car, and Geoff knew what they were all thinking. And like that, he cut the leash.

"Go nuts."

Within seconds the car was upturned 20 feet away, and on fire. Geoff shot numerous fires off into the crowd of police, who subsequently scattered for their lives. Joined shortly after by Michael.

For a few minutes, everything was fires ringing off and one could swear they'd be deaf by now, but the dust quickly cleared and Geoff let a sigh of relief escape his mouth.

Ray's eyes quickly averted and he leaned into Geoff, whispering something to him. The Ram's mouth flat-lined and he walked curtly over to the burning rubble, nails tapping on the metal.

He stared into the distance, and in the corner of his eye, he saw it, a small, frail cop cowering like a small child in the corner. He was completely helpless, and it was Delicious.

He strutted over the man, large, almost permanent present hat shading his face like a movie villain.

"Hey, buddy, need help?" Geoff asked lamely, watching over him.

The cowering man looked up, and met eye to eye with him. He was petrified. He could feel all sense of confidence shrivel up in himself and die with a meek voice.

"Need help." He restated, not bothering with emotion, and he shot a single bullet, right through his skull.

Bright crimson splattered on the ground, making a gross sand-plasma mix on it.

"You needed it."


	4. Here Kitty, Kitty, Kitty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for delaying it a week, I didn't have my computer!

"Don't stay out late, you know how this place gets around midnight."

"Please, we're the toughest out here."

Michael salutes off jokingly, sticking his tongue out at the lion that waited behind him. He slowly slunk his way out of the door, slamming it behind him.

He jammed his hands in his pockets and breathed in the cold night air, taking it deep in his lungs and grinning to himself. It felt nice to just take a walk away from everything for a while.

Everything seemed pleasant and slow. His feet seemed to take forever to hit the ground. His sensitive ears could pick up every sound made, and that they did. A very unusual one, at that.

His small orange ears flickered under his permanently-present-beanie at a strange sound, but he quickly shoved it off his shoulder and continued on his walk, shrugging as he strode away from the source.

Reaching the end of the path leading from the apartment, he bit his tongue and booked it full speed across the street, dust kicking up behind him. He came to an abrupt stop and was inches away from a large brick building. Grinning sheepishly and not for a second doubting that he very well could make out with a brick wall for half and hour, he turned around and slid down to sit.

Cars ran past him and break-neck speed and he only stared. Not exactly inviting, but he had learned to grow with it.

He then less-then-gracefully scrambled to his feet, kicking up dirt, and hurried on his way, turning a corner to a dark street.

Atleast it seemed that way. it was only beginning to get dark but the street seemed to swallow the shadows and spit them back out at you. It sent a minute chill down the cats back and made his hair (and fur) stand on end.

Hands still tucked in his pockets, he fiddled with the lint that had gathered there in hopes of condoling himself, but to no avail. Few people caught his eye, but they did not return the favor- thankfully- but that did not change that the area was bleak and lacked life. Metaphorically.

His heart caught in his throat when he heard a small clammer of metal behind him. He wanted to bare his fangs and tear into whatever it was, but that risked being scoped out by the residents of the slums. He slouched and furrowed his brow in hopes it deterred whomever it was.

And with that, he continued on his walk, sneakers hitting the ground-up pavement and shoulders pulled forward.

The buildings suddenly pulled away in what seemed like a sideways cavern, melting into inky blackness, the only visible thing was a small flickering fire at the end and some... thing blocking the way, right behind the curtain of dark.

And hand gingerly reached out and grabbed him roughly by the throat, pulling him in.

The second he was kicked out of his daze, he was quite literally kicked. And knee'd. A stream of blood dripped from his sleeves as one ripped a good chunk out of his arm.

Now that he was being wailed on, he could see there were atleast 4, 2 males and 2 females, large grey hoodies, jeans and gloves, and not going easy on the brass knuckles they adorned. They seemed to be coated in grisly grey face-paint, and it seemed to rub off as fist after fist met with every ounce of his body, the skin surrounding the contact blossoming purple and red.

One of them managed to grapple themselves to Michael's hoodie, and pulled him towards them, smiling like there was a swarm in their mouth and swiftly slamming a knee to his stomach.

He immediately fell to his knees, slamming into the pavement. His hands splayed on the ground and caught small pebbles in the raw skin. He began to cough up a putrid mixture of red and clear and it tasted as it smelt, metallic and sting-ridden. He crumpled over himself like a small, helpless animal being attacked and shook pitifully. Small dribbles of his rose spit drawled off his tongue. This was his end.

Then someone grabbed at his beanie.

He could feel time stop. His heart thumped in his chest so loudly he swore people across the street could hear him. Cold beads of sweat began to form on his forehead. His eyes formed into tiny slits and his tail, currently jammed in his jeans bristled.

He could feel the wool leave the down on his ears.

And something growled behind him, and threw itself at the attackers.

He could feel the fear that struck their hearts. I could sense skin being torn and teeth bared and snarling venomously. He curled in on himself more as some sort of ball of protection from the hell that split open behind him and shut his eyes.

He could swear he fell asleep for a split second.

When everything had finally calmed down, he gathered himself, tail shifting under the denim to fit between his legs in submission and looked up to see whom his savior was. A familiar face met his eyes and his expression immediately melted from fear to relief.

"T-thanks Jack." He choked out, half due to his burning throat.The previously diamond-cut lion ditched his mask and went back to the cheery SOB they loved and gleamed in response, not saying a word. Jack wiped the small speckles of red off on their jeans and made a gesture for Michael to follow him out of the alley.

Thank goodness everyone had cleared in a frizzle when the fighting kicked up, and their identities were safe for but another day.

By this time it was twilight and the air was cool and nice against the blistered and bruised skin of the felines.

At once a thought caught up with the redhead as they both turned the corner to head up to the house.

...Were the thugs still alive?

...

Hope not.


	5. It's Time

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

Finally, after so long, it was finally time.

The bags filled to the brim with the supplies, and grins all across the board. Adrenaline bustling through the veins and buzzing at fingertips.

The crew gathered round in the living room, eager feet and even more eager minds sitting across from nobody but Geoff himself, a whiteboard set out on the table and restless finger tapping it.

He cracked his knuckles and smiled. He had been waiting for so long.

"Alright boys, let's get this rolling." He stated plainly, eying everyone gathered before him.

He jotted down a simple map on the whiteboard, catching everyone's gaze to it. He circled a corner of the map.

"We'll meet at the skyscraper next to the major bank, avoid hitting anyone- Gavin." He paused, catching the bird's eye.

"We don't want police before we even do anything, got it?"

Gavin nodded.

Geoff began drawing two lines following two roads on either side of the bank.

"Michael and me will bring up two transport trucks on either side to block the police, got it?"

He continued without waiting for a response.

"There, of course, will be one open path. I want Ray to watch that. Class A sniper, alright?" Geoff asked, turning to Ray, who nodded in response and cocked the sniper in his hand.

"Not yet, wait."

He put it at his side again.

"Avoid shooting a grey minivan. That'll be Jack. He'll bring it up to transport the goods. And Ryan?" The ram said, pausing.

Ryan raised an eyebrow in questioning.

"Could you look out on the top of the building? Y'know, for helicopters and the such."

Ryan nodded.

And then they were off within seconds, buzzing to life. Ray grabbed a few essentials from the bag and got outside, curbing into the parking lot beside the building and piling into the truck waiting outside. Gavin quickly followed suit, pistol tucked away just in case.

Taking a minutes time to catch themselves, Ryan got outside with gun in hand and ready for anything. He piled in the backseat and they were off like lightning.

Just moments later, the duo of Geoff and Michael were out, luck for them, rush hour was just starting, so steal- borrowing a transport truck would be of no issue. They each received their kill within minutes and finally began their way to the destination.

At last was Jack. He had taken the scenic route to the barren area behind the building and had his minivan their. Before even bothering to get into the automobile, he sighed happily to himself. It was always a rush to preform feats in these things, and that could always be needed.

Finally, he got in and drove off, kicking up dirt behind the car and cloaking the area in dust.

By the time the lion arrived, things have already erupted into chaos. No one was hit on the way up, but that shouldn't so much as change a single factor on whatever the ungodly hell is going on now.

Ray already had to cars unturned beside a building on the other side of the street, and the smell of burning rubber was fresh on the air.

The two transport trucks were completely undriveable now as they were completely wedged in between the two side of the street, and it was foggy whether this was good or bad on either part.

And Geoff and Michael haven't been able to even get in the building yet.

Ryan had finally made his way to the top of the building through the surprisingly large vents and called down to the males waiting below.

"Mostly clear! Be wary at the entrance, there's a guard!" The longhorn sang out.

Ryan sat back as the cat and ram ran inside. He had not much to worry about on the road seeing as all three nearly completely blocked. He wouldn't be surprised if Ray was half nodding off.

Ryan cocked his gun in his lap and waited. He could hear every noise being made below him. The hustle and bustle, screaming to put the money in the bag, and everything other phrase uttered in the midst of a heist. It was far from unusual.

Now, the noises getting closer, that was unusual.

And the screaming coming to an abrupt halt after 'Hide' was heard was unusual.

And having your arms twisted behind your back and your legs gone from the ground was unusual. Immediately, Ryan heard growling beside his face.

"We got ourselves a criminal."

The second the voice stopped the longhorn began to viciously kick behind him with all the force he had in him, clenching his teeth in aggression.

It was no use.

He was dragged down the stairs and out the front door with pure anger lacing his features under the nearly-always present mask. He felt gazes following him out, but not those of the bank tellers. Of the crew.

His sneakers caught on the ground as he was dragged away and practically thrown in a police car on the other side of the burning rubble Ray left in his wake.

The drive was long, grueling and made fear and nervousness pool in the Longhorn's stomach. It was utter torture.

By the time Ryan arrived at the police station, he already had and escape plan.He had been caught a few times before and his strengthen intellect would prove fruitful in times of need.

Seconds seemed to passed by as his pictures were found, analyzed and all information on him was found, additionally, his time was finalized.

He was quiet and wouldn't speak a word, probably for the better.

He was brought to a cell in an area he was unfamiliar with. The bars seemed thicker and rusty, and there was no comforts, nor bed. Just the cell. He cocked and eyebrow at the curious sight but waited to receive and answer rather then ask.

He was escorted inside and seated himself in a corner, looking up and waiting for the send-off the guard always gave.

This one was different.

"Sorry, Haywood, but you've accumulated to many kills... we'll see you at execution tomorrow."

His heart sank.


	6. Nice Knowing You

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry

Ryan curls in on himself, tucking his legs into his chest.  
The walk in proved there was no blemish in the walls for him to crawl through, nor chisel to break through the thick brick walls. He was trapped like a mouse in a snap.

There was no way they could help him out, it was like a broom closet.

The bricks surrounded him like dogs approaching wild prey, growling and baring griddled teeth. It made him feel meek and unable to defend himself.

He was immediately jolted from his thoughts as a clanging was heard on the metal bars. The clearing of a choked throat was heard and Ryan looked up, the guard waiting

there.  
"Haywood, there's someone to see you."

Ryan tugged on the beanie, pulling it over his ears and stood up, striding towards the door and attempting to avoid looking weak in the face of authority. The bars pulled

open, scraping along the ground and residing in the walls. He followed the uniformed male into the halls, turning and facing the visiting all.

The Longhorn minutely contemplated who could be visiting him. The crew was a likely candidate, but most certainly not at the same time. They'd be slaughtered on sight if they

were caught here, and they could never risk loosing someone else. It spelt them weaker and weaker then before, and the authority they showed could be compromised with less members to assit. It was a risk, for certain.

The sight that met before him proved otherwise.

They sat at a round table, joking to themselves and shoving each other playfully. The guard let him be free to seat himself beside them at and empty chair and they all smiled in glee.

"Ah, big man finally got caught?" Jack said quietly, drowned out to the guards by the other visitors.

Geoff gave Ryan a small, friendly shove. "Hey, you won't be here long, we got you."

Ryan's gaze dropped to the ground. "Yeah, definitely. I'll be out tomorrow."

Michael's eyebrow cocked.

"Tomorrow? No dude we're gonna need a bit more time then that..."

Ryan's hand's on the table clenched slightly, biting his lip to spell out the bad news. It was hard to get started, and he felt as if he might choke on his own tongue. His nails

turned white and burned crescents into his skin.

"I'm getting the chair tomorrow. I've wracked up too much to be kept alive."

Eyes stood unblinking, and fingers began to nervously twitch across the table. Their breath caught in their throat and the air suddenly felt damp with the sense of losing

someone so close.

"I've looked, there's no way I can somehow escape in the middle of the night, sorry."

Geoff interrupted, gripping onto Ryan's shoulders with a soulful look in his eye. Smiling slightly but eyes watery.

"There's no need to apologize. We're gonna make the time up right now." He says, his fingers digging into Ryan's shoulders as he tries to keep from crying.

Ryan's spineless slouch ceases as he leans up and faces the rest of the crew, adorning a smile similar to Geoff's. They were so teary eyed at the sudden news, but

remaining strong to keep from bawling in front of others.

"Hey," The longhorn interrupted, wiping the distraught faces they had and replacing it with curious glances.

"I just want you guys to know something."

Ryan paused and waited for the others to settle down. He stared at them all with wide eyes and shaky breaths, but continued on his way.

"I've always felt my best with you guys. You dragged me off the street when I was in need, and have kept me since. We've had our struggles and bad times, but could

always help me out in a rut, even when I've been here before you got to me, and I couldn't appreciate it more. Thank you so much. It's been great, just don't forget me,

alright?"

He looked up again, catching eyes with everyone. Their lips curled into genuine smiles, but their lips still quivered. Eyes were masked with water and began to seep onto red

cheeks. Ryan sighed inwardly.

"Come on, bring it in."

Everyone stood up and immediately clutched to each other, pushing the small plastic stools out of the way and gripping like they might float away at any moment. As they parted,

everyone had their word.

"We're really gonna miss you, Ry." Jack said, slapping Ryan's back. He stepped back and Gavin approached him, his hands curled to his chest.

"We won't forget you if you don't forget us, alright?" Gavin asked, staring up at the longhorn.

"Promise." Ryan said, pulling in the smaller bird for a hug, then stepping back.

Ray stepped forward, eyes red and watery, but showing no steep in his voice.

"Gonna miss you asshole. It's been great." The rabbit said, pulling Ryan in for a hug like the others have done. It was a warm and friendly embrace and felt somewhat

comforting.

Everyone shared their goodbyes, they were heartfelt but laced with a small dressing of humor, trying to dissipate the heavy cloud growing over themselves, as much as they tried, it never fully dissapeared.

A sharp knock to the Longhorn's shoulder stirred him from the moment, and he turned to the disturbance behind him. The guard.

"Come on, visiting hours are over."

Silence fell over them, and Ryan was led off down the hall, leaving the crew to their thoughts.

It's been stated, since day one, they'd be handled by the horns, per say. They'd go to poaching, or some racist asshole, not their own decisions.

They were proved wrong.

They hated being wrong.

As Ryan woke up the next day, everything seemed slow and syrupy. Time seemed to drag on forever, and his back was oh-so stiff.  
He lied on the floor and waited. He was drained from yesterdays ordeal, and he can't be bothered to move on his own.

There's a knock on the bars, once again.

"It's time."

Ryan shuffles up, waiting for the guard to open the door. It's pulled open and he follows the guard out and down the numerous halls, leading down to one he's never seen before. The door looks unused and bland.

"Go sit down, we'll be ready in a minute."

He sits in the seat, and waits for a while. Minutes seems to become hours, and he shifts in his seat until someone comes on the radio system, voice like stone.

"We'll be pulling the switch now, alright? Count of 3."

Ryan sighs. He evaluates all the good times they've had. When Geoff and Jack first discovered him, at that time he was just a teen pillaging local stores. He remembers first finding the lads, welcoming in the group with open arms. The memories are so sweet in his mind. It's alluring.

"2."

He remembers their first heist. The police took forever to even get there, and adrenaline buzzed in their veins throughout. It was exhilarating and wonderful at that. It's fresh and ripe.

"1."

He remembers their faces. Their tear-stained faces. The ones that helped him and welcomed him. The ones he missed already.

"Gonna miss you."

The switch was pulled.


	7. Break These Walls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the late update I didn't have a computer to work with Eheh

The day seemed quiet and drawn out, an empty room droning throughout the house and engulfing every noise.

The eeriness of it all was enough to pull everyone from their small tasks and gather them at the living room.

Their eyes were dead and glazed, but their faces were etched with curiosity as Geoff sighed and began to pour out an idea.

He cocked his head and stared at the lot -short one- staring back.

“We’ve got to show this bastards what we’re made of, you got me?” He said, arching his shoulders back to show no mercy.

“Trashing the place is but a must in this time. I don’t want a speck of rubble left in it’s place. Fight back.”

A few distant mumbles between the shoulders of the crew were heard, spelling slight confusion at the sudden alteration of the atmosphere.

Geoff cracked his back and sighed. “I want them dead. Revenge, if you’ll say.”

To say they were shocked would be an understatement. He’s spoke of revenge before, but to avenge a dead one would be something unheard of. It was dastardly and wrong but at the same time so exhilarating and forced upon it was like he never left.

“Of course, We need to be extra careful with the animal bits, the police are no different from the rest of them, and our rambunctious behavior could spell us out to be discovered easier. Dress for the weather, as we used to say.”

He left without saying another word, not even so much as ushering everyone out to prepare. Eventually, everyone dissipated into their own rooms and began to suit up.

Small ears were binded to hair with bandages, and a hat hastily thrown on top. Tails were tucked inside boxers and wrapped around legs to not make so much as a bump, and made nearly numb as to not move.

Geoff has had to chop his horns off time and time again, but they grow back so quickly it’s nearly a weekly thing to shave them down again so they don’t poke through his hats.

He can recall helping Ryan when he first began to follow in his footsteps, having to do it more then he, himself did on account that his grew out rather then around. It brought fond memories flooding to the ram, sending a warm feeling to his gut.

He hesitantly shook his head to hide away the thoughts for later, and pulled out the filer from his bedside table and began to smooth down the horns, which have grown soft from being fresh.

Binding wings has never been particularly easy, especially for someone so clumsy. The frequent needing of replaceable elastic fabric is a tedious task, but a done one. Tying knots along his chest and slipping on a large leather coat to conceal them was nothing abnormal, and almost common for someone with such pronounced animal appendages. Tying knots around his neck and to his legs further concealed the lump on his back, and he stepped forward, looking at himself in the mirror. One would almost be surprised by this display of human.

Rabbit ears were never fun to conceal, unlike kitten’s, they were heavily pronounced and not easily hidden. He’s been tempted to snip them off before, but unlike horns they wouldn’t grow back. Recently Ray has been tucking goggles underneath his beanie to form some sort of container for his ears, and it worked for a good amount, but his ears are extremely sore after. He simply couldn’t do that for today, considering the possible length and likely activity.

Something catches his eyes

Headbands?

Why not?

He slowly slips it on over his short black hair, tucking the downy-covered ears underneath it and plastering it to his head, then slipping on a classic beanie over top of it. It’s almost relieving how nice it feels (for now atleast) and busts his mood upwards.

Finally, they are ready to reak havoc, and love it too.

When everyone begins to pile into the vechical Jack taking the drivers seat, it is noticed that the back of the car is filled to the brim with weaponry and machinery, about triple what is taken on heists. The sight causes Michael’s eyes to burn with anticipation. 

“Gather up, let’s do this.” Geoff calls, everyone buckling up.

The ram grins and the car bolts out of the driveway, and towards the jail.

The buzz of energy that poured out the car as it parked in a desolate location was astounding. Geoff quickly scrambled to the weapons and pulled out a familiar black rocket launcher, twirling it in his fingers.

The large grey building looming over them but hardly hindered them, if anything, it revved them up. Geoff took aim at the wall, staring into the cross hare and grinned.

“For you, Ryan.” he whispers, before launching a rocket into the wall and breaking a huge hole in the bricks.

Alarms blasted throughout the jail and could be heard even from the distance that the car was at, but it was hardly anything to deter the group. They charged at the wall, grinning viciously, weapons stocked up in their hands.

Rushing through the lesion in the rubble and beginning to mow down cops was without a snail’s pace. The bodies fell into piles and pooled blood, open wounds pulsating.

Darkness spread under their eyes and they felt no remorse. Now was not the time.

They ran through the halls and met eyes with the gaze of cops looking in horror. They were quickly clipped and rammed by Geoff, spittle at his lips. The one left alive gulped in terror as the ram pulled a swiss knife from his pocket and slit his neck all the way around, leaving nothing but a spine within moments.

He pushed the head off it’s perch and stomped it in, plunging the pocket knife in his torso.

He walked off, as did the rest of the crew, following him like ducklings.

They swerved in and out of hall ways, trans-versing the prison like a maze, finally making their way to the visiting room, to their delight, it was not visiting hours, and only the guards were there. Quite a delight, indeed.

“The guard, the one that brought Ryan out? I want that one. You guys have the rest.” Geoff whispered, prompting Jack and the gang to pounce. They quickly spread out without making a sound and each picked a guard, forcing their hands behind their back and covering their mouths to prevent screams.

Legs were broken with quick kicks, and necks were snapped with bitter, mindless ease.

Geoff surveyed the carnage, scanning over every last bit of gore spread out. Eyes running over the crew, who were splattered with blood and panting like dogs, but satisfied with their work nonetheless. It was awarding.

He motioned them over and pulled a arm over Jack’s shoulder, huffing with a upbeat tone. 

Ray interrupted them from behind. “That’s everyone, right?” He questioned, fidgeting with his beanie.

“Yeah, there’s hardly anyone here this time of day, I can assure you.” Geoff said, turning to Ray and messing with his hat. “Speaking of which, let’s get out of here, just in case any of them did manage to make it to the phone.”

In the hub-bub, the all streamlined out and back to the car, surveying the scene as they made their way.

The seats were filled and the weapons were placed in the back without much care, and they drove off.

Later that night was a weird one, for certain.

In the midst of the dark and dreary, Geoff woke up, pulled on pants, and staggered into the hallway, half-asleep. Sleepy-eyed and dull, he made his way to Ryan’s room, who’s door was unlocked. Blinking minutely, he made his way to the Longhorn’s bed, and simply...

lied down in it.

Pulling the covers on himself and settling in nicely, he smiled one last time, and mumbled something laced with sweetness:

“That was for you, Buddy. Hope you liked it.”

before falling asleep once again.


	8. Why Did This Happen?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so, so sorry for not updating for two weeks.

The early night seemed long and dragged out, but it was filled with laughs and cheers nonetheless. It’s been a while since such has happened, so it was quite a relief.

After the chorus of giggles had died off and everyone had melted again into monotone chatter, one voice broke the surface.

”I’m going to head to bed, alright? I’m beat.”

“Got it, Jack. Night.” Geoff waved off, ears twitching in his hair.

A swishing tail behind himself, Jack tally-hoed off to his sleeping chambers, all was warm and inviting but oddly unsettling, the dark always was.

Nevertheless, a beat lion couldn’t be bothered to ‘skin’ himself, so he simply settled into bed and mulled soft purrs as he slowly slipped into dream world. It melded into one and he settled in the covers, asleep.

For a blissful moment, not much happened, or what seemed like a moment, it was blank and dark and there was no bodily movements to check whether conscious. It wasn’t much minded, though, thankfully.

Eventually the darkness slowly dissipated into a dim lighting, and Jack slowly blinked his eyes open, rubbing them slightly and pulling the blankets off himself. Everything seemed foggy and mystical, but it always seemed that way in the early hours. 

What was curious, is that things seemed a fair amount off. The complex was emptier, and the multitude of hats, binders and filers always ready was missing, causing Jack to chew on his lip slightly in anxiousness. Indeed off-putting, but he elected to ignore it and pulled on some sneakers, making his way out into the fresh dew of the morning, a relief, to say the least. Seeing as no one would be out this early, he wouldn’t have to worry about his ears being spotted.

The plight out into the grass took only seconds but seemed like life times, everything slow-moving and sluggish.

He sighed deeply, drawing in air, but was immediate and sharply expelled. His eyes grew wide as he heard a gunshot.

Usually, this wouldn’t effect him in the slightest. Police and criminals with high records are rampant, but this early in the morning would stir all.

His heart thumped in his chest, the hair on his neck beginning to stand on end. His head flung from side to side, trying to take in the whole view and seeing as he wasn’t being attacked, catching a glimpse of something posted outside the door.

When he hesitantly tore into the note, the lion’s heart fell to his gut.

The wording on the note was sprawled and haste, but readable.

“Hybrids are worth more then a friendship. Studies show that they have more ivory, valuable feathers, and even horns then animals do. Make cash.”

The fact that someone could be so close-minded and ruthless and barbaric was atrocious, but done. It was disgusting. 

He crumpled up the harmful piece of paper and threw it over to the side of the house, sticking out his tongue in repulse.

Absolutely disgusting.

 

His ears flickered in his hair as another sound wafted in the air, but rather of screams of terror then a gunshot. A semi-mute splatter then silence.

Jack books it, he runs as quickly as possible to the front of the house, covering his ears seconds before he reaches the front gate and pushes it open, staring out.

The sight that meets is horrific. 

A human gasping over another h... hybrid, eyes bloodshot and quickly, hastily sawing into the hybrid’s horn with a bone saw, so close to the skull it was drawing blood. It dripped onto to asphalt, in small crimson tear drops, melting into the tar.

Drip... Drip...

He lept back behind the wall, allowing himself to catch his breath. He weakly attempted to push the sight to the pack of his mind, but it only grew, taking over his entire being. 

Then a thought hit him like a cinderblock to the face.

That could be him, blood pouring out onto the street.

He wanted to puke. 

At once another slap to the face.

Where was everyone else?The pure worry buzzed in his veins and he frantically searched for any sign they were alive, and none to his great discontent.However, something did catch his eye.

Another crumpled up piece of paper in the grass, this time, however, reading something different. He crawled over and picked it up, reading the bold lettering to himself.

“Hybrids are not to be hired by anyone. If a hybird is found to be working in your facilities, both the boss and employee will be executed.”

He cringed at the thought, pulling in on himself. He pressed his hands into his hair, squashing the downy-covered ears to his head and cautiously making his way back inside, shutting the door behind himself and leaning against it, panting.

He just wanted to roll back in bed and never get up again.

A sudden loud shout, from indeed the house made his heart skip a beat, whether from sheer terror or the joy of recognizing the voices, he didn’t know. Nor care.

The shuffle of feet filled the back room and came around to the front, everyone looking scared and disheveled.

Gavin’s wings were flurred and covered what could only be a mysterious party member, both Ray’s and Michael’s eyes were wide and ears stiff, and Geoff looked seconds from passing out. They all panted shallowly, hands gripping into the table. 

Recovering from the initial shock, Jack coaxed them to explain.

“They want our blood.” Geoff blurted out, shaking his head.

“Kill us and sell us. We can’t lett’em know.” Michael explained further, staring up at Jack. “That’s why we ran, we weren’t about to let that happen. Besides, now we’re out of jobs. We have no money.”

“We’ll figure something out, don’t worry.” Geoff replied, getting up to lock the door, reaching behind Jack. 

Something reached for the door before he did though, on the other side. It slowly twisted the door open, the knob creaking.

And he jumped up covered in a cold sweat, pupils blown. Small drips poured down his forehead, and he sighed, unbeknownst relief or not.

Allowing himself to calm down, clutching his shirt, he recollected himself, looking around the room, finally letting out a blissful sigh.

“It was a dream... thank fucking god.”

But no, dreams are something that haven’t happened.

This was a flashback. 

A flashback to when this whole thing began.


	9. Taking a Bull by the Horns

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for not updating ehehe

As the spring days slowly melted into Summer, a sweltering heat taking over the land, it was realized that they were the only one’s with guns to gloat and a hankering for robbing.

After completely gutted like a fish made life a fair amount more difficult for the group guarding their own hide, but the ones who initiated it, made it more... interesting

Groans as the eldest scowled out the window grew as he turned around, a motorcycle zipping by in the distance, items like flower petals being pulled from it.

“They robbed the place down the street, y’know, the gun store that was a target for next week? Can’t imagine they left scraps.”

Ray’s mouth flatlined as he said the last words, obviously annoyed at the presentation.

“‘Can’t fuckin’ believe this. Do they even know we’re here?”

Geoff’s eyebrows furrowed as he turned towards the rabbit, everyone else shifting awkwardly.

“Probably. Figured Los Santos had plenty to support six people, and remain not completely in debt.”

Michael’s tail swished from side to side, showing the pure pissed-off attitude of the cat. He didn’t want to fight for his feed, neither did anyone else. 

“Well, Let’s get those assholes. Right, Geoff?” He asked, turning, waiting for Geoff’s approval, eyes flickering.

The rams nods shortly before being interrupted by a loud crash and ugly, high-pitched laughter. This causes him to scowl. Atrocious heathens.

He turns on his heels, making his way towards the door and pulling it open, staring out onto the street. It seemed so empty after all the ruckus caused, but was no more empty then a normal day. They had hidden themselves, likely from the police.

 

“I’ll tell you guys what-” Geoff whispered, still staring outside. 

“We’ll track ‘em down.., and... have some fun? Whadda say?”

Jack raised a finger to interrupt from behind but was quickly hushed.

“They can’t be dangerous. I’d say half of them aren’t even in their mid-20s. It’ll be easy. Come on, Jack.”

That was easy enough persuasion to cause the Lion to shut his eyes in delight.

“Should me and Michael clear out the Garage?” The bird asked, peering at the ram.

“Absolutely. Punch out some lights too. One over the chair, that’s all we’ll need.”

They dispersed and got to work. Geoff continued to watch outside, noting their patterns and waiting for the time to strike.

The day seemed to drag on as he quickly caught glances again and again as they whizzed by, well after everyone else was done with their miscellaneous tasks. 

The rest of the day seemed normal. Bird cooed and everyone happily spent their day inside, chattering about their plans for tonight. 

 

The heat dissipated after a few hours, allowing the crisp, calm night breeze to replace it. The sky began to turn beautiful shades of yellow, orange, red, then lastly blues and purples, until slowly turning to an inky black. A calming sight to observe. 

The house was a blissful emptiness. Everyone had made there way out into the night, preying on the foes. The clack of handcuffs being opened made enemies spines stiffen, but they could not find the source.

They sat out in the streets, several of them. Not a bleed of live but them, to their knowledge. They figured as much as a simple broken sign, continuing counting the small wads of paper they had dug out of the stores, pouring it out of their pockets. A single streetlight illuminating their activities.

“Wonder if those dick-holes even have any money for food now after we cleaned ‘em out?” One of the ones wearing a dark brown hoodie eluded, laughing to them-self after. 

“Ha, shouldn’t.” Another adorning a plain T-shirt replied bluntly.

The crew sat beside a large stand-alone wall, whispering small finalized plans. Bags and small ropes grasped between their fingers. The others banter was a bore, but they kept each other company, ready to bare fangs.

“Should we gett’em now? They seem ready to leave.” Michael asked in a sharp whisper, turning towards the crew leader.

Geoff nodded shortly, tugging on the bag to stretch it out slightly.

Everyone slowly crept out from behind the wall, ducking into the brush to keep hidden, slowly approaching the opposing group, taking the smallest baby steps.

Hands seemed to crawl the brush, over taking them and slowly slipping a wall of black over their eyes and tearing the air from their lungs.

 

When the one’s that caused copious strife could finally breathe freely and see just as, they noticed something. All arms were bonded together and practically stapled to a chair, seated inside a dingy, dark room. It stank of gasoline and engine oil and everyone could hear the shifting of feet on concrete and the loud, sudden clang of metal as the lights finally turned on, spotlighting the group tied to chairs in the middle. 

Everyone looked up to see 5 faces, gashed and tired but strangely eager and grinning.

A familiar voice initiated the conversation.

“Seems we have a few thieves in our vicinities. “ The one with a disheveled tux said, looking back at the other four, each with a small burlap sac of unidentifiable tools. 

“Maybe they didn’t know about us?” He continued, catching eye to eye with one of the unknown crew members, staring them down.

“Hey, Ray, get out here.” He requested, giving a beckoning finger to the crew and calling one out.

The smallest one there stepped out, face just about hidden with a large hoodie.

The ram that gave orders stepped back, allowing the others for to come forwards, just behind Ray. 

“Give ‘em a treatment, alright? I’ll be back, after I get back our profit. Have fun!” He finished, making his way out of the room and loudly shutting a door behind them, essentially, blowing a whistle and saying ‘let ‘em at ‘em.’

All 4 of them shifted around in the sacks, pulling out a small monkey wrench and surrounding the tied individuals, one for eachother.

One by one, shoes and socks were pulled off and the monkey wrench was jammed underneath the back of their toenail, causing the ones tied to screech out in pain and squirm in their place. Tears dribbled from their eyes and burned into their cheeks. A truly satisfying sight after what these assholes have caused. 

Blood pooled onto the concrete, a slight disturbance but nothing a little hydrogen peroxide couldn’t fix.

They reached into the sack once again, pulling out melon ballers. Everyone strappeddown grew silent and were on the edge of retching.

The sight caused the group to practically submit. Screaming pleads of ‘We’ll do anything , just please don’t!’

Sadly, before they could dirty the tools, Boss man busted the door back open and returned with a gleam, stepping loudly onto the concrete.

Gleaming and giving quiet whispers of ‘I got it.’, his attention was drawn too what only could be the group leader, as was he.

The leader gave weak and spineless pleas of ‘Give it back, we’ll leave.’ drawing the Ram to be face-to face with the leader.

Geoff looked completely unamused, staring at him with dull blue eyes, before getting spat on the face by the one who previously whined.

He growled lowly, pulling back.

“You’re a dick hair away from getting your fucking jaw torn off and mounted on my wall.” He stated sternly, slapping them across the face and causing a bleeding gum.

“Take them out. Make them know I don’t want them back. I got what I want.” Geoff said, turning way from group and giving all a short gesture to throw them out on the street.

Everyone grabbed their respective victim and opened the garage door, tossing them out like garbage, still firmly enlocked in their chairs.

They quickly closed the door, giving a respective finger and leaving the others out for the rats.

They won’t be a bother anymore, don’t worry.


	10. Bloodhound's Nose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

Above ground boards squeaking, being the only sound to touch a human ear, other then that, complete and utter silence filled the house. Where the crew sat themselves was unknown, but it spelled danger for the house.

Cricks in the wood startled only flies, but quickly melded into a pelting stampede of boot, busting in the door and causing chips to rain on the floor in dusty piles.

The view that met them was unsightly- nothing.

Badges glistening in the rank light that streamed through the house asserted authority over all creatures residing in the building, but none of which they desired.

Four males, curious-eyed, paced around the house, scoping out- up and down- for any sign of human life and with none to present. Wiping down cold sweat in a hurry, they picked at every nook and cranny, practically x-raying the whole flat.

Evidently, they found weaponry galore in this shit-hole, and collected it for themselves. It was surprisingly upkept and advanced for such- what they considered- lowlifes, although they knew it wasn’t true.

Prying the previously mentioned weapons in duffle-bags, they gathered ‘round again and formed a plan to tear into their criminals.

They tracked this place down from every bank, store, and candy-shop that has even been picked clean by the so-called ‘Fake AH Crew’. It was no surprise this is where they set camp, it’s moderately secluded and right next to another huge gang, where they chuck the blame.

It’s a god-damn wonder they haven’t scented them down sooner, considering how host-haste they scram to this place after a clean-out. They were too overzealous with their grab-bags. It was kind of pathetic according to authority.

Venturing throughout the house to scower, one came across quite a sight, surely one that would earn him a large bonus pay in his pocket.

Venturing down a run-down hallway and arriving to what could only be the door to the garage, caked with what was, hopefully, grease and oil along the bottom, he hesitantly pulled the door open and reveled in the sight.

The crew, illuminated before him by a few sparse lights, tampering and tinkering with some weapons that could only be of mass destruction. They hadn’t noticed considering the door had only opened a smidgen, and they were too caught up in their own dues anyways... Thankfully.

He motioned for the other three all-too-eager cops to follow him down the hall. Pointing hurriedly at the door he began a chant.

“Alright,” he whispered, “in on the count of three.”

The second he reached one they busted through the door, sending pieces of wood flying with them, admittedly catching the crew by a bit of shock and surprise. They stormed down the stairs and started laying punches, they weren’t taking shit.

Geoff, despite his age managed to catch and throw some punches like he was 20 again, along side the rest of his crew. If only he brought his studded brass knuckles with him, this would be way more entertaining.

Michael’s pent up anger finally caught up with him and he was having a joy feeling blood on his skin, could almost call it therapeutic.

Finally feeling this surge of adrenaline after such a while with it boiling inside was a godsend, but after the cops backed off and dribbled from the faces in mercy, it wasn’t without a final kiss goodbye to send their regards and remembrances.

In the flurry of gnarled teeth and fists, fur also flew and now the cops knew.

They knew about the secret they kept for so long and so well, and they weren’t taking it now.

When hands grabbed, fabric came with it and flicking tails did not help in the slightest.

They were found out.

In the panic, they realized something else was taken from them. something more dear then what kept them alive. It was their little rabbit. He was gone.

Ray struggled and kicked and shouted every curse under the sun and over, but him being so small and scrawny from only sniping took its toll and he simply couldn’t break free. He was so used to being protected behind the sight and this was all new to him. He didn’t know what to do.

It sent him into a hysterical panic.

Their beaten up bodies dragged his feet through the hallways and outside, onto the patio and through the grass. He tried jamming his feet into the ground but to no avail. his hands quivered as he was slowly edged towards the car and pushed inside, slamming the door behind him.

He stared outside. Everything was so different from inside the car he was always pinning down.

The remaining, rattled up crew managed to get outside just in time, teeth clenched and fists ready. But too little to late, to their dropping hearts.

Their last sight of Ray was him driving off in a car, eyes wide and scared. He looked so vulnerable and pitiful. Like a deer in the headlights.

After the dust cleared, Geoff was surprised the cops didn’t come barreling back for the rest of them. they seemed safe but their minds were not at ease, and wouldn't be for a while, it seemed.

“I’m worried sick for him. I don’t want anything horrid to happen to him.” Michael drawled on as they went inside. He was so scared for his little buddy.

“He can’t handle himself out there.” Jack piped up, staring at Geoff expectantly.

Geoff bit his lip in thought and furrowed his brow.

“None of my boys get hurt and I’ll hold onto that world till the day I die. We won’t let anything happen to him, you hear?” He explained, minutely pacing back and forth.

“We’ll get bunny back to the hutch.”


	11. Caged

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It’s not uncommon for collectors of the rare to scope out those known as hybrids, half human, half animal. Their beautiful forms and strange anatomy spell themselves rarer and rarer due to hunting.
> 
> However a certain group, as well known as the Mafia, and, can, aswell, cause the destruction of an atomic bomb, have something up their sleeves they must hide, otherwise they risk and face extinction.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit. I'm so sorry for not updating for so long. I don't have any excuses, but holy shit I'm so sorry.

Tha-dump

Ray could feel his heart drum in chest, his fingers buzzing. They felt light, like a bleached desert of lives forgotten. They landscapes whizzing by made him nauseous, and his tongue felt as if it was weighted foam. 

His heart jumped. Kept jumping, as if it would stop any second.

No. Why now? Why just him? He wasn’t used to this. He couldn’t do it.

He looked back at the police in the front. They seemed glowing. Upright. Huge, malicious grins on their faces, whispering.

“We caught one of ‘em, fuckin’ finally.”

He wanted to scream. The penthouse became more blurry by the second, until eventually dissolving out of view entirely. They were all back there, worried, he was sure of it. He could see it, clear as day.

Michael, fangs bared, deep, guttural yelling at the car to bring Ray the fuck back. Jack, shivering in worry and convincing Geoff to go after him. Geoff sighing, tapping Gavin on the shoulder and getting him to bring along Michael. They needed to go inside, and formulate a plan to bring him back.

“Did you see the ears on ‘em? I can’t believe they’re… THOSE!”

The rising pitch of the cop jolted Ray out of his daze, and brought upon a brooding realization. Oh god. Oh dear god no.

They saw him. They saw all of them.

“How much money you wanna bet we can get for Cottontail? 20k, or hell, maybe more.”

“Let get the rest of the zoo. They might sell better. The old fuck has horns, you know how much we can get for those? Millions!”

Both cops laughed, ugly. Deep in their disgusting, rancid bellies. Doesn’t this mean anything? Doesn’t this disgust you even a little bit?

He wanted to scream at them. Complain and bitch. This is going against morals… then again, their cops. It’s not surprising. They’re low life, disgusting, unworthy trash heaps, with a badge. Ray scrunched his nose and grimaced. He didn’t want to acknowledge them anymore. He was too disappointed with the shit pile in the front.   
His eyes wandered to the rapidly passing outside, the buildings whooshing by as the car maintained a steady, yet rapid speed. His fingers still ached, his stomach coiled, and he was minutes away from puking on the floor. His head felt hot, like his brain was red-faced. He just… generally felt uneasy and uncomfortable. 

The cages on his window felt like a prison, yet he had the debilitating feeling… that’s not quite sure where he would end up. 

The prison had no laws protecting Hybrids. They were lesser than dirt, but more profitable. A live hybrid, no matter the type, always dragged in a few thousand behind it’s dampy little tail when handed over to legal markets. The fact that this WAS legal was enough to make a person with a spoonful of compassion keel over, dead. 

A ditch, de-eared, de-boned and dead seemed to be his mostly likely pit-stop. His skin felt like prickles and he half-debated clawing his own ears off. 

Or smash out the window. Using a kick to fracture the glass, and maybe a face in the process. The thought relished in him.

But no. They’d hear it, halt the car, and run him over in the process. He’d like to escape relatively injury-free, if possible. Thanks.

The car skidded to immediate halt, the car towing on behind narrowly missing the first. Ray’s head was thrown forward, his face connected with the wire mesh separating the back and front seats, and he fell unconscious.

The surrounding area was devoid of life. The dirt road falling in a puddle around the car, piles of metal blocking the view. Two wire fences, hardly parted, faced opposite the car. All that could be seen from the car’s front window was decaying trees overhanging the opening. 

Some screaming, then silence. 

Yep. This was the place. 

The cops looked back behind them, through the cage. The rabbit was slumped over and trembling. He must be absolutely seething with rage, they thought. 

“Hey, FUCKER. Get the fuck up.”

No response. As they suspected. These lowlifes never so much as said a word. As half tempted they were to jostle him, they, frankly, weren’t prepared to get a bloody, broken nose. 

Stepping out of the car, the gravel crunched under their feet. It was such a different feeling from the asphalted city they were so… used too. It was hard to tell if the difference was refreshing, or terrifying.

Click

The car door swung ajar. His ears didn’t perk. His hands didn’t twitch. He made no indication of acknowledging them. The two police simply stared. The other car honked. 

“Hey, what’s the holdup?” He leaned out the car, flailing his hand about. 

“Nothin’, gimme three damn seconds.”

A fistful of hoodie, and the sound of dragging feet instantly awoke Ray and resulted in him beating his fists against the nearest object, of which just happened to be the cop forcibly dragging him out of the car.

He could feel the bruises welt underneath his clenched fists. It felt great, but the feeling quickly crumbled to the feeling of dread as Ray took in his surroundings. The drab, bear life. The smell of blood, tears and death. It reeked of death. His nose instinctively crunched, and his ears feel flat against his back.

The cops laughed.

And through the dirt he was dragged, like unaccomplished feet, like gardening tools. The feeling of ever-impending doom left his knees quaking, his eyes wide.

Through the gate.

Drab, crotchety wooden cabins lined either side. Eyes watching from all angles. Disgusted, yet at the same time intrigued by the rabbit being tugged along some police in uniform. The police shot out greetings left, right, and center to all patrons. Their calloused hands wrung together as each thought they’d get a chance at claiming the rabbit. 

Weapons were displayed proudly on hooks, hanging delicately outside the cabins. Ray swallowed.

Words hung on his ears. 

“Rabbit.”  
“Prey.  
“Money.”  
“Profit.”

Would his profit be lowered if he vomited on himself? Because thats’ what he wanted to do.

“Where are they? Where are they?” He thought.

His thoughts were tossed as his hoodie was viciously tugged once again, dragging him round a corner. The cabins became less populous, and he could feel the gazes vanish. His feet kicked as the cops toting him around picked up pace.

He looked up.

A magnificant house stood at the end of the path. It’s outside decorated with cleavers. Skinners. Buckets. Like it wanted to show the lives it took.

His heart sank.

Guys…. I’m not gonna make it.


End file.
